Moments in Time
by Luckyduk19
Summary: Ever wonder who might be doing what when you aren't around to witness it? Here are a few, brief, moments in time of those you know and love. But in a way you might not expect of them!
1. the Sisters Black

"Cissy, it's time to get up!" Bella yelled as she bounded into her sleeping sister's room. For once she was wide awake before her sister and that just added to her elation. "Cissy!" she called again stepping over to the bed and shaking the sleeping girl gently. When she received no response she progressed into a sort of chant, along with a dance that happened to involve her standing on the bed with a foot on either side of her sister. "Cissy! Cissy! Cissy! Cissy! Cissy!"

"Cut it out." Murmured Cissy as she tried to pull the blanket over her head; hoping that it would shield her from the onslaught of her sister's morning insanity. But no, it did nothing since Bella was standing on the blanket keeping her from escaping into the warm darkness.

"Come on Cissy its time to get up! It's a beautiful day! The sun is shining! The birds are chirping! All in hopes that you will join in the gloriousness of the day!"

"Mobilicorpus. Has someone cast a cheering charm on you or maybe you drank a potion you shouldn't?" Cissy pointed her wand in the air and directed the levitated Bella out of her way. She threw back her covers and slide out of bed with a sigh. Clearly her sister has managed to lose her mind sometime during the night. With a flick of her wand she released the spell she has casted on her sister and dropped her onto the now empty bed.

"You sleep with your wand under your pillow?"

"And with good reason apparently. You never know when you might be attacked in your sleep."

"But I'm your sister not an enemy!"

"Sister… enemy… such a fine line this early in the morning. But seriously what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting like a monkey who had a bit too much firewhiskey?" Cissy stared at her sister afraid she might be mauled at any moment.

"What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong with me." Bella jumped up and bounded past her sister, who quickly stepped out of the way lest she catch whatever ailed the clearly delusional girl, and skipped down the hallway whistling to herself.


	2. Minerva McGonagall

"Mr. Potter if you and Mr. Black paid half of much time on your studies as you do on girls I have no doubt that you would be able to pass your O.W.L.s with outstandings." Professor McGonagall sighed as she looked at the two boys. She couldn't help but smile inwardly at their attempts to justify their time management skills and why they had couldn't spend as much time studying. Normally she didn't have favorite students but James Potter and his friends were close. As was Lily Evans. They were all such good kids.

Minerva rubbed her eyes as she sat and watched her class doing the days work. And there in the middle of the class was the cause of her constant flashback to days gone by. The constant reminder of a few of her favorite students. They weren't all the best academically. Each of them had their strong points. And their differences from each other were what drew them together as a group and strengthened their friendship.

Harry James Potter, the spiting image of his father with the eyes of his mother the living ghost of James and Lily. He and his friends were just as troublesome as the marauders had been.

"Mr. Potter if you and Mr. Weasley would pay attention more often in your classes you wouldn't need to bother Miss Granger as much." The strange sense of déjà vu returned yet again. It had become an almost everyday occurrence when Harry, Ron, and Hermione were involved. Nor was she the only one of the professors to be pick up on all the similarities in the kids of then and now.

It seems that history was set on repeating itself once again. Minerva wasn't sure if she was capable of going through it all over again. It had broken her heart when she heard about James and Lily being murdered by He-who-must-not-be-named. Then Sirius Black being killed, now here they were another great war has broken out. Hopefully it would be the last. She would try her hardest to protect as many as she could. And she would die a thousand times over before she let any more harm befall Harry and his friends. This time it would all end differently. Voldemort had greatly misjudged them all one too many times.


	3. Seamus Finnagan

"There you are!" Ron called out from damn near the complete opposite end of the corridor as me.

Not sure if I should be angry to know that I was adopted, sad that I'll never get to know my real family, or both. At the moment I'm just kind of walking in a daze and my feelings are kind of numb. I do however wish to talk to someone. And since Liv left like a bat out of hell I'm not quite sure where to go. She said I should talk to Harry, but why? I mean what is it that he would know about my family? Then again I could go to the headmaster... it's like everyone knows about my past but me. But how can that be true, the way Liv was talking, it was like it was a secret. One that was to... protect me? Protect me from what? What was it about us that had to be hidden? Ugh so many questions. Fine! I get it Liv; you want me to go crazy. Well I have no intention of playing right into your hands. Really, now would it have killed you to stay and help me digest the information?

"Earth to Colette," Hermione gently shook my shoulder.

"I'm sorry its just, GAH, I don't know."

"What did your sister want?"

I look up at Harry, "She told me that I should talk to you."

"About what...?"

"My family,"

"What would Harry know about your family? Besides Livia, of course, none of us would know anything about muggles from the United States." Ron snorted, "Maybe your sister just wanted to blow you off. That or the stress from all the studying has gotten to her and drove her mental."

"But that's not true. I mean it is, but its not."

"..." Great now they're staring at me like I've lost my mind.

"According to her we were adopted when I was a baby. And that our biological parents were both from around here but were killed."

They exchanged a concerned look, do I still sound insane?

"Perhaps she's just picking on you."

"I thought that too, at first but... yesterday when we were in the headmaster's office, the teachers called her Miss Black..." What the hell was with that look? It was like I had electrocuted all three of them at the same time.

Harry looked around himself nervously. "I think we should take this conversation elsewhere." He pulled Colette after him as he hurried to find a more private place to talk. Ron and Hermione followed after. They turned into a deserted corridor, "I only know of one family of Blacks. Are you saying that you're related to Sirius?"

"Sirius Black?" Colette's eyes widened when she remembered where else she had heard that name. "You mean the escaped killer Sirius Black? That I might be related to him?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look before Hermione pressed on, "Just calm down for a moment. Did she actually say what your father's name was?"

"Uhm, Regulus... something"

"Your father is..." before Ron could continue Professor Snape glided into the corridor.

"Shouldn't all of you be on your way to class?" he sneered at them. They scurried off before he could deduct any points from their house.

"We'll talk after our classes are finished," Hermione whispered.

I can't believe that I might be related to that mass murderer. Not only that but hadn't someone mentioned that he had escaped and was at large? From what I've heard he managed to get out of a prison that no one else has. And that he had... had... he came after Harry. Is that why Liv said I should talk to him?

Colette along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the chairs closest to the fire in the Gryffindor common room. They were trying to concentrate on their homework while they waited for their fellow Gryffindors to finish up and go to bed.

The last straggler, Neville, managed to wearily make his way up the stairs to the boy's dorms after yawning a goodnight over his shoulder. Colette turned to her friends expectantly. They took half the night to fill her in on what they knew of the Black family and reassured her that Sirius was innocent of any crime. Colette still wasn't so sure about that last bit but decided to trust her friends. Hermione insisted that they had talked enough for one night and that they should go to bed.


	4. Bathilda Bagshot

"What a lovely morning!" Bathilda sat in her tiny little kitchen. She was sipping tea while looking out the window. She says her cup done and looked into the bottom of it. "Hm, maybe I'll go water the garden. I should go put on my gardening robes." Her gardening robes were brightly colored and floral.

Outside she put on a pair of gardening gloves, also bright and floral, and grabbed the watering can and the pruning shears. She made her way from one flower bush to the next watering, pruning, and talking to each as she moved along.

"Drink up my lovelies! Drink up if you want to grow up and be bigger and more beautiful than the other pitiful little flowers down the street." She would say to one. And to yet another she would add, "My word, look how nicely you've grown.

"Oh my, what happened here?" She set down the watering can and was holding one of the flowers gently in her hand. "That horrid dog from down the way must have been digging around here again. You poor thing." She looked around more closely at the ground and sure enough there was a spot of earth that looked freshly turned. She tsked and made a mental note to leave a wonderful surprise for the mongrel should he ever feel the need to journey into her garden again.

"Mrs. Bagshot?" Bathilda looked up at the blonde woman standing in front of the gate to the yard. "I was wondering if I might be able to share a cup of tea with you and maybe a story or two."

"It'll have to wait. Can't you see I'm in the middle of a conversation?"

The blonde woman looked around the yard and saw no one else near. "With whom are you talking?" But Bathilda wasn't even listening. Her attention was already back to her flowers.

"Now then my pretties where was I? Oh yes," She clipped the rose that was hanging limply and placed it in the little basket that was nearby and already had a few other flowers laying in it. "Ah, that should be enough for today." She picked up the basket and watering can and walked back up the walk to her house and went in. Leaving the blonde outside not knowing what to do.

"Crazy old bat," muttered the woman as she opened the gate and made her way up to the front door acid green quill and roll of parchment clutched in her hand.


	5. Xenophilius Lovegood

"Ah, Mr. Lovegood! Just the man I wanted to see." A cheery wizard flagged Xenophilius down as he was making his way down the slightly busy street. Christmas was just around the corner and people were trying to finish up their last minute shopping.

"Yes?"

"I know how much you have an interest in extraordinary things and I thought that you might like to take a peek at what I have." He motioned for Xenophilius to follow him to the mouth of an alley that was a few steps back from where they were standing.

"I suppose I could." He followed the wizard and started to poke around at the merchandise that he had set up. His eyes lit up when he say a large, greyish horn. "A horn from a Crumpled-Horned Snorkack!" He admired the markings of it.

"Why yes it is. Interesting creatures, those Snorkacks," smirked the wizard as he watched Xenophilius turning the Erumpent horn to and fro. Who was he to correct him? If he thought it was a horn from a Snorkack then it was no concern of his. "..." He was eager to have the horn gone. Touchy things Erumpent horns, the slightest touch and it would explode.

"Sounds reasonable enough. A horn from a Snorkack is well worth the price. My Luna would absolutely adore this." Xenophilius payed the wizard and appareted home.

He appeared at his front gate and walked across the yard, careful not to step on any Dirigible Plums. Once inside he set the horn down on the table. "Perhaps a cup of Gurdyroots first." He put the teapot on the fire and went about the house seeing where best to hang the horn.

He was up on the second floor rearranging things on the wall when the teapot began to whistle. Once he was done with his drink he picked up the horn and made his way back upstairs. He had decided that on the wall across from his printing press would be a good place to hang it.

"Up you go!" He levitated the Crumpled-Horned Snorkack horn up and attached it to the wall.


	6. Justin Finch-Fletchly

Justin's grandfather was a busy man. But since he's been retired he doesn't exactly know what to do with himself. So he comes across as a hard ass. As first Justin was afraid of the man, then Justin's mother forced him to accompany the old man out fishing. That changed everything.

"Don't be afraid now Justin! Take some slack up in your left hand and bring the pole back over your right shoulder. That's it. Do it a few more times and then let go of the slack in your other hand. 'Atta boy!" Justin Finch-Fletchley's grandfather was teaching him to fly fish. It took a bit more finesse then regular fishing.

At first Justin didn't think he would ever get the hang of it. He kept getting his line caught in anything and everything. All the hard earned respect he won from his grandfather was about to go up in smoke when he lost damn near the entire reel of fishing line in a tree on the other bank of the river. Talk about one hell of a cast.

He only managed to keep the old man's admiration when a large fish took the bait and pulled Justin into the water. He held onto the pole the whole time much to his grandfather's surprise.

"Come here," he helped Justin to his feet and cheered him on as he reeled with all his might to land the fish. When they got it on to land he tried to unhook it for Justin but it kept flopping around. He leaned down and delivered one well timed punch to it and grabbed it up as it lay stunned on the ground.

Once it was off the line Justin posed a few times with the dead fish while his grandfather snapped a few memorable photos. They cleaned it and headed home where they told the story of how Justin caught it, adding some tidbits here and there to spice it up for the rest of the family.

Fishing brought made them closer. Justin learned as much as he could about the different types of fish, where best to cast his line to catch them, what types of baits were best, etc. It wasn't that he was obsessed with the topic. More like it was a hobby that just happened to sneak its way into every conversation that he had. It came in handy whenever he and his friends were interrupted by a teacher when they were talking about things that no one else knew.


End file.
